Newman Best Quotes

God has created all things for good; all things for their greatest good; everything for its own good. What is the good of one is not the good of another; what makes one man happy would make another unhappy. God has determined, unless I interfere with His plan, that I should reach that which will be my greatest happiness. He looks on me individually, He calls me by my name, He knows what I can do, what I can best be, what is my greatest happiness, and He means to give it me.

Let us put ourselves into His hands, and not be startled though He leads us by a strange way, a mirabilis via, as the Church speaks. Let us be sure He will lead us right, that He will bring us to that which is, not indeed what we think best, nor what is best for another, but what is best for us.

What I’m starting to understand, finally, is that the point isn’t to help the people who know how best to ask for help. It’s to be helpful.

It is often said that second thoughts are best. So they are in matters of judgment but not in matters of conscience.

I love that I am but one of millions of single girls hitting the road by themselves these days. A hateful little ex-boyfriend once said that a houseful of cats used to be the sign of a terminally single woman, but not it's a house full of souvenirs acquired on foreign adventures. He said it derogatorily: Look at all of this tragic overcompensating in the form of tribal masks and rain sticks. But I say that plane tickets replacing cats might be the best evidence of women's progress as a gender. I'm damn proud of us. Also, since I have both a cat and a lot of foreign souvenirs, I broke up with that dude and went on a really great trip.

I like racing but food and pictures are more thrilling. I can't give them up. In racing you can be certain, to the last thousandth of a second, that someone is the best, but with a film or a recipe, there is no way of knowing how all the ingredients will work out in the end. The best can turn out to be awful and the worst can be fantastic. Cooking is like performing and performing like cooking.

To that extent that you can sustain and maintain that childlike part of your personality is probably the best part of acting. Quoted in "Paul Newman's Road To Glory", interview with Paul Fischer, Film Monthly (2002-07-01)

When everything’s going alright, best thing you can do is sit back and enjoy it till things turn to shit, which they surely will.’ Silence

The world then is the enemy of our souls; first, because, however innocent its pleasures, and praiseworthy its pursuits may be, they are likely to engross us, unless we are on our guard: and secondly, because in all its best pleasures, and noblest pursuits, the seeds of sin have been sown; an enemy hath done this; so that it is most difficult to enjoy the good without partaking of the evil also.

Most of us haven't begun to tap our own potential; we're operating way below capacity. And we'll continue as long as we are looking for someone to give us the key to the kingdom. We must realize that the kingdom is in us; and we already have the key. It's as if we're waiting for permission to start fully living.

I assume the gargoyle does not require refreshments?” “I don’t think so. Should it?” “I imagine not, sir, being of a stone constitution, but I find it best to never assume anything when it comes to matters of unnatural animation.

This is the moral, Oh My Best Beloved: never kill anyone for a 'Cause'. For why not, Uncle Basher? Because causes don't pay, Little Friend of all the World. Adherents expect you to kill just for the righteousness of it. They don't want to pay you! They don't understand why you want paying!

She told me that since they date exclusively [in Judaism] with the intent to marry, the conversation is very direct right from the start. You’re not sitting quietly next to each other at a movie wondering if you can get over his awful shirt. You’re interviewing. And from your first date, you’re focusing, apparently, on only three questions: Do we want the same things out of life? Do we bring out the best in each other? Do we find each other attractive? That’s it. In that order.

The best way to reclaim your dignity is to act rationally and treat yourself lovingly. Do not self-destruct.

When everything's going alright, best thing you can do is sit back and enjoy it till things turn to shit, which they surely will.

Nick’s curiosity about feelings and the people who have them is fleeting at best.

Give people the benefit of the doubt, over and over again, and do the same for yourself. Believe that you’re trying and that they’re trying. See the good in others, so it brings out the best in you.

And, I rejoice to say, to one great mischief I have from the first opposed myself. For thirty, forty, fifty years I have resisted to the best of my powers the spirit of liberalism in religion. Never did Holy Church need champions against it more sorely than now, when, alas! it is an error overspreading, as a snare, the whole earth; and on this great occasion, when it is natural for one who is in my place to look out upon the world, and upon Holy Church as in it, and upon her future, it will not, I hope, be considered out of place, if I renew the protest against it which I have made so often.

So, now I know there’s a story. Spill the beans, girl.” Frankie sighed. “Fin used to bring his Naval Academy friends home in the summer. They seemed like gods to me.” She smiled, a little one, and thought maybe it was too sad to be real. “Rye Walsh was his best friend. The CO in the sunglasses last night? I had a huge crush on him.” “The guy who looks like Paul Newman? Wow. So, grab his hand and show him—” “He’s engaged.” “Shit. Not again.” Barb took a drink. “And you’re a damn good girl.” “When I danced with Jamie, I felt safe. Loved, I guess. It was like being home,

The Second Vatican Council, much influenced by Newman’s thinking, spoke of the assent of the mind and will to Catholic doctrine, even if all dimensions of a doctrine are not understood. Without such assent, we try to meet God on our terms rather than His. This is futile at best and spiritually destructive at worst.

Good art cannot be defined. There is only great art that creates new ideas and then there are imitations of varying degrees. There is no best way or only way. We learn from the past, in order to understand the present. The past is our foundation, the springboard into the future. Tradition and past ideas are important bases to begin with, but can be traps if misunderstood.

I want something; I know not what. It is you that I want, though I so little understand this. I say it and take it on faith; I partially understand it, but very poorly. Shine on me “O fire ever burning and never failing,” and I shall begin, through and in your light, to see light and to recognize you truly, as the source of light. Mane nobiscum. Stay, sweet Jesus; stay forever. In this decay of nature, give more grace. Stay with me, and then I shall begin to shine as you shine: so to shine as to be a light to others. The light, O Jesus, will be all from you. None of it will be mine. No merit to me. It will be you who shine through me upon others. Oh, let me thus praise you, in the way you love best, by shining on all those around me. Give light to them as well as to me; light them with me, through me. Teach me to show forth your praise, your truth, your will. Make me preach you without preaching — not by words, but by my example and by the catching force, the sympathetic influence, of what I do — by my visible resemblance to your saints, and the evident fullness of the love which my heart bears to you.

This Is Not an Elegy At sixteen, I was illegal and brilliant, my fingernails chewed to half-moons. I took off my clothes in a late March field. I had secret car wrecks, secret hysteria. I opened my mouth to swallow stars. In backseats I learned the alchemy of guilt, lust, and distance. I was unformed and total. I swore like a sailor. But slowly the cops stopped coming around. The heat lifted its palms. The radio lost some teeth. Now I see the landscape behind me as through a Claude glass— tinted deeper, framed just so, bits of gilt edging the best parts. I see my unlined face, a thousand film stars behind the eyes. I was every murderess, every whip- thin alcoholic, every heroine with the silver tongue. Always young Paul Newman’s best girl. Always a lightning sky behind each kiss. Some days I watch myself in the third person, speak to her in the second. I say: I will meet you in sleep. I will know you by your stillness and your shaking. By your second-hand gown. By your bruises left by mouths since forgotten. This is not an elegy because I cannot bear for it to be. It is only a tree branch against the window. It is only a cherry tomato slowly reddening in the garden. I will put it in my mouth. It will be sweet, and you will swallow.

Donald Trump repeatedly promised he would hire "the best people." He did not. That is not my opinion; it is President Trump's, which he expresses frequently. Trump has said that his first secretary of state, Rex Tillerson, was "dumb as a rock" and "lazy as hell." His attorney general, Jeff Sessions, was "scared stiff and Missing in Action," "didn't have a clue," and "should be ashamed of himself." Trump described one of his assistants, Omarosa Manigault Newman, as "wacky," "deranged," "vicious, but not smart," a "crazed, crying lowlife," and finally a "dog." After lasting only eleven days as communications director, Anthony Scaramucci "was quickly terminated 'from' a position that he was totally incapable of handling" and was called "very much out of control." An anonymous adviser to the president was called "a drunk/drugged-up loser." Chief strategist Steve Bannon was "sloppy," a "leaker," and "dumped like a dog by almost everyone." His longtime lawyer Michael Cohen was "TERRIBLE," "hostile," "a convicted liar & fraudster," and a "failed lawyer." The president was "Never a big fan!" of his White House counsel Don McGahn and "not even a little bit happy" with Jerome Powell, his selection to head the Federal Reserve, whom he called an "enemy." His third national security advisor, John Bolton, was mocked as a "tough guy [who] got us into Iraq." When the president was irritated with his former chief of staff, John Kelly, the president's press secretary, Stephanie Grisham, declared that Kelly "was totally unequipped to handle the genius of our great president.

We have not begun to live’, Yeats writes, ‘until we conceive life as a tragedy.’ Newman confessed that he considered most men to be irretrievably damned, although he spent his life ‘trying to make that truth less terrible to human reason’. Goethe could call his life ‘the perpetual rolling of a rock that must be raised up again forever’. Martin Luther told a woman who wished him a long life: ‘Madam, rather than live forty more years, I would give up my chance of paradise.’ No, the Outsider does not make light work of living; at the best, it is hard going; at the worst (to borrow a phrase from Eliot) ‘an intolerable shirt of flame’, It was this vision that made Axel declare: ‘As for living, our servants will do that for us.’ Axel was a mystic; at least, he had the makings of a mystic. For that is just what the mystic says: ‘I refuse to Uve.’ But he doesn’t intend to die. There is another way of living that involves a sort of death: ‘to die in order to Uve’. Axel would have locked himself up in his castle on the Rhine and read Hermetic philosophy. He saw men and the world as Newman saw them, as Eliot saw them in ‘Burnt Norton’: ... strained, time-ridden faces Distracted from distraction by distraction Filled with fancies and empty of meaning Tumid apathy with no concentration Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind That blows before and after time But he was not willing to regard himself as hopelessly damned merely because the rest of the world seems to be. He set out to find his own salvation; and although he did it with a strong romantic bias for Gothic castles and golden-haired girls, he still set out in the right direction. And what are the clues in the search for self-expression? There are the moments of insight, the glimpses of harmony. Yeats records one such moment in his poem ‘Vacillation’: My fiftieth year had come and gone I sat, a solitary man In a crowded London shop An open book and empty cup On the marble table-top While on the shop and street I gazed My body of a sudden blazed And twenty minutes more or less It seemed, so great my happiness That I was blessed, and could bless It is an important experience, this moment of Yea-saying, of reconciliation with the ‘devil-ridden chaos’, for it gives the Outsider an important glimpse into the state of mind that the visionary wants to achieve permanently.

I like Omarosa.” Vague. Faint praise. He didn’t defend me at all. After fourteen years, this was the best he could do for me?

Atlantis People would whisper about us And our fall from grace As our world fell to ruin And our worst fears were realized, We’d be submerged and forgotten The stuff of speculation. Legend at best, We were a lost city, Singing our siren ballads Of heartbreak and woe From the depths below, We were here! We were here. We were here…

Standing next to him is Dr. Petranek, nonbinary, in hir mid-thirties with the broad cheekbones of Eastern European heritage and curly brown hair. Ze, too, is tall and confident, standing with hir thumbs hooked into hir belt loops and laughing heartily at something Banks has said. Dr. Petranek is one of the best Noropean engineers of hir generation and the designer of several systems used to keep us alive here, I recall from the show. Secondary specializations in synthetic biology and human biology.

CASA DELFÍN Ana Dakkar, monitora Lee-Ann Best Virgil Esparza Halimah Nasser Jack Wu CASA TIBURÓN Gemini Twain, monitor Dru Cardenas Cooper Dunne Kiya Jensen Eloise McManus CASA CEFALÓPODO Tia Romero, monitora Robbie Barr Nelinha da Silva Meadow Newman Kay Ramsay CASA ORCA Franklin Couch, monitor Ester Harding Linzi Huang Rhys Morrow Brigid Salter

Sometimes it’s best not to let your opponent even know you’re at war. Much better that, when they figure it out, it’s too late.

Newman preferred to buy businesses whose management would stay in place to run their companies as subsidiaries of P&R. And he preferred to use his network to source deals rather than rely on investment bankers.

Buffett’s thesis on Cleveland Worsted Mills was straightforward. The stock sold for below its net current asset value and at a bargain P/E multiple. The worsted manufacturer was consistently profitable and paid a fat dividend. By 1952, having graduated from Columbia and now an employee at Buffett-Falk, Buffett liked the stock enough to write a brief report on it, stating, “The $8 dividend provides a well-protected 7% yield on the current price of approximately $115.”86 The stock had been cheap for some time. Buffett, in fact, had held the stock in 1951, selling at a slight loss as he invested his capital in companies like GEICO and Timely Clothes. Ben Graham also liked the stock, having made the Cleveland firm a 1.5% position in the Graham-Newman fund and including the company in the 1951 edition of Security Analysis in a table titled “Six Common Stocks Undervalued in 1949,” along with Marshall-Wells.87

It was Micky Newman, the 34-year-old son of Ben’s partner Jerome, who talked him out of it. Micky was more optimistic about the excess inventory P&R had piled up. Moreover, he saw an opportunity to apply some high finance to this industrial company. “Ben wanted to sell at a loss, but we persuaded him not to because I could see some big pluses,” Micky later said. “I could see a huge potential tax loss due to abandonment of deep mines, and in addition, P&R coal had piled up small and unusual amounts of coal.”157 In early 1955, P&R reported a $7.3 million loss for 1954, $5.3 million of which was attributable to write-offs related to the abandonments of mines.158 The big loss gave the Baltimore/Graham-Newman group a chance to increase its control over the company’s corporate governance: Hyland’s broker, Benjamin Palmer, joined the board in February, and Micky Newman joined him three months later. Along with Ben Graham himself, the Baltimore and Graham-Newman shareholder group now controlled three of nine board seats. As a sign of things to come, P&R changed its name and amended its charter to allow the organization to engage in activities other than coal mining. The company dropped the reference to coal from its name, transitioning from the Philadelphia and Reading Coal and Iron Company to the Philadelphia and Reading Corporation.159 Micky took the initiative to transform the company. His plan was to use the cash P&R generated from liquidating its excess inventory to acquire profitable businesses, whose income would be shielded from future taxes by P&R’s existing tax loss position.

What is the best supplement? Not formula. The first choice is always the mother’s own milk. Hand expression during the first few days, when there is not a lot of colostrum, is often more effective than the best pumps.

Artificial nipples interfere with breastfeeding. If supplements (preferably the mother’s own expressed milk, or, as a second choice, banked breastmilk) are needed, they are best given by lactation aid at the breast. If the baby is not taking the breast, a spoon, open cup or finger feeding can be used instead of a bottle. Finger feeding is best used to prepare a baby who is having difficulty latching on, not really as a feeding method (see the chapter “When the Baby Does Not Yet Take the Breast”). The bottle is not a good choice. Furthermore, if the baby is breastfeeding well, there is no need for pacifiers; having the baby satisfy his sucking needs at the breast helps to establish a good milk supply. If the baby is not satisfied at the breast, the mother needs help to make the breastfeeding work better; the baby does not need a pacifier. And if the baby is breastfeeding poorly, pacifiers often make the problem worse.

She told me that since they date exclusively with the intent to marry, the conversation is very direct right from the start. You’re not sitting quietly next to each other at a movie wondering if you can get over his awful shirt. You’re interviewing. And from your first date, you’re focusing, apparently, on only three questions: Do we want the same things out of life? Do we bring out the best in each other? Do we find each other attractive? That’s it. In that order.

Start with the fact that all Jews are supposed to be spending their lives bettering themselves, becoming as Godly as humanly possible. And then on top of that, men have to please their wives sexually. It’s an order from the greatest sages. It’s also best, mitzvah-wise, if they please their wives before they are pleased themselves. You also can’t speak evil about your mate. You have to treat each other with kindness, and you must get down there and float your lady’s boat, and you can’t bad-mouth each other, even to your friends over a nice glass of pinot. God forbids it.

I fell in love with his effort. The way he never stopped trying to make this love the best it could be.

Many implementations of CRM tools I have seen are among the best examples of adhesive (as opposed to cohesive) services.

This model is certainly one I favor. It pushes the decisions to the people best able to make them, giving the team both increased power and autonomy, but also making it accountable for its work

El Mayor drink twice and thrice then crouch down to the radio. He tweak its side, and its voice halt in silence. His shoulders ease. Then I surprise how my own fear relieve. Radio voice been like the voice of flies when your best child is dead.

Well,” he said. “The troublesome two.” “Troublesome to whom?” asked Andrew. “Us at the Yard. Though I’ll admit you’ve given a certain amount of trouble to a few yobbos, too.” “I should say we have,” said Sara. “You wouldn’t have solved half the cases you have if it wasn’t for us. Where’s Wyatt?” “He’ll be along. He was on his way here when the commissioner sent for him. So he sent me over to tell you why he was late and that he’d be here when he could.” “Something up?” asked Andrew. “There’s always something up at the Yard. What do you think we do all day, sit around figuring form for the races?” “I know you do most of the time. But I meant something important. There must be if the commissioner sent for Wyatt.” “How do you know he didn’t want to ask him who his tailor is?” “He probably asked him that a long time ago,” said Sara. “Come on, Sergeant. Tell us.” “I will not. That’s how the trouble always starts. Someone tells you three words about a case, and the next thing we know you’re in it up to your sit-me-downs.” “All right,” said Andrew. “Just tell us if it’s animal, vegetable or mineral.” “I’ll tell you nothing. I’ll tell Frank here,” he said to the waiter who had reappeared, “what his nibs is having for lunch. And by the time it gets here, he’ll be here. A steak and kidney pie for the inspector, Frank.” “And a pint of your best bitter, of course.” “Of course.” Sara and Andrew decided to have steak and kidney pie, too, and Tucker proved to be as good a prophet in this as he was in most things, for about the time the waiter reappeared with their order, Wyatt came hurrying in. “Sorry I’m late. You explained?” he asked Tucker. “I did.” “I left a note on your desk. Take care of it as soon as you can.” “Aren’t you having lunch with us?” Sara asked Tucker. “Someone has to hold the fort,” said the sergeant. “I’ll grab a bite at the pub, but I suspect I’ll be seeing the two of you again sometime soon.” And giving them an exaggerated salute, he left.

Do you think you’ll be able to take care of what he wanted to see you about?” asked Andrew. “As always, I intend to do my best.” “All right,” said Sara. “We give up. So you don’t intend to tell us what the commissioner wanted or about the case you’re on. What did you want to see us about?” “It’s the holiday season. Andrew has just come back to London after several months away at school, and I haven’t seen you since he was last here. Isn’t that enough reason to want to see the two of you?” “To send me a telegram making an appointment for my first day home?” said Andrew. “The answer is no.” “Why do you think I wanted to see you?” “I don’t mind guessing when it serves some useful purpose. But since you’re bound to tell us sooner or later, I’ll just wait until you do.” “You get more difficult every time I see you,” said Wyatt. “You say that every time we see you,” said Sara. “And then you give us that look.” “What look is that?” “The one that asks, ‘Can I trust them to do what I want and keep quiet about it?’ And the ridiculous part of it is that you must have decided that you could trust us or you never would have sent Andrew that telegram.” “True. All right, I’ll tell you.

One of my dad’s best pieces of parenting advice had been very simple: wait. He didn’t tell me to abstain from sex and drugs forever, which I’m sure would have made me try everything immediately. He just told me to take a beat, watch my friends try things out, learn what to do and what not to do based on their mistakes and triumphs, and then try out what I was going to try.

Willa wrote her college admissions essay about this pond, and I loved it. It was about all her layers of memories and experiences: she learned to swim here; she was happy here, and also anxious; Jamie taught her about molecules while they lazed in the shallows; my mother showed her where the blueberries grew at the water’s edge; she came out to us here. In the version of the story she likes best, she splashes up to us to announce her gayness and I say, “No duh.” This is not strictly true, but close enough. It was such a good essay.

Doubtless these desperate and dark struggles are to be called superstition when viewed by the side of true religion ; and it is easy enough to speak of them as superstition, when we have been informed of the gracious and joyful result in which the scheme of Divine Governance issues. But it is man’s truest and best religion, before the Gospel shines on him. If our race be in a fallen and depraved state, what ought our religion to be but anxiety and remorse till God comfort us? Surely to be in gloom— -to view ourselves with horror — to look about to the right hand and to the left for means of safety — to catch at everything, yet trust in nothing— to do all we can, and try to do more than all — and, after all, to wait in miserable suspense, naked and shivering, among the trees of the garden, for the hour of His coming, and meanwhile to fancy sounds of woe in every wind stirring the leaves about us — in a word, to be superstitious — is nature’s best offering, her most acceptable service, her most mature and enlarged wisdom, in the presence of a holy and offended God .

One of my dad’s best pieces of parenting advice had been very simple: wait. He didn’t tell me to abstain from sex and drugs forever, which I’m sure would have made me try everything immediately. He just told me to take a beat, watch my friends try things out, learn what to do and what not to do based on their mistakes and triumphs, and then try out what I was going to try. Without consciously deciding to, I took that advice to heart in many elements of my life: just wait. With marriage and children, but also with drugs and men.

Most people don’t know they have one, because they have never put it into words. They are made up of vague feelings, unspoken apprehensions, the things we didn’t dare talk about or even admit to ourselves as children. They deal with the most powerful and problematic forces in human life, like sex and aggression, which most families find too formidable to discuss. So we develop complex ideas about the nature of reality, which we never communicate and never examine. Someone said that God created the world in a fit of absentmindedness. We do almost as well. We build worldviews half asleep and let them, like tinted lenses, color our lives.

It would be futile for me to “make up my mind” to be a painter if I have no talent in that direction. But the truth is, if the talent is lacking, the desire will be absent, too. Your genuine self does not want to do things that are utterly foreign to it; it wants to realize its own potential. Of course, people can come up with all kinds of crazy notions about what they think they want to do or be, but they are just that—notions, and not genuine impulses. When we use our willpower to achieve goals that do not spring out of us, but which we set for the sake of pleasing others or to fulfill a fantasy about who we are, we create a kind of monster, a mechanical man in which our living self is trapped. We have all seen people who are held together by sheer willpower; the effort is enormous, but the result is hardly worth it. They aren’t people we enjoy being with—or who enjoy being with themselves.

Then why don’t we do it? Why do so few of us live that way? Because there’s also a hidden payoff in continuing to suffer. For one thing, it’s familiar; we’re very comfortable with it. It gives us a sense of security to keep on in the same old self-defeating ways, letting one bad action lead to another. We know what to expect. It makes our world comprehensible, predictable, in some sense manageable.

You mean our most important ideas about life are ones we are not even aware of, and we’ve been carrying them around since childhood? Yes, and their impact can be very powerful. Often when we think we’re responding to actual people and events, we’re merely assigning them parts in the inner novel we’ve been writing all our lives. For example, if someone has felt deserted as a child by an important adult, and this becomes a key experience in his way of seeing the world, there are several ways he can continue to have that experience. One way is to seek out the kind of people who are likely to desert him as an adult—and we are all very clever about that. Another is to drive people away by his own behavior. Or he can imagine he is deserted by people who really haven’t mistreated him at all. Whatever way he chooses, he confirms his theory about what to expect from others, and this is very gratifying. Come on! That certainly doesn’t sound like any way to have fun. You’d be surprised. Being right is one of the most satisfying experiences in the world. Or let’s say, rather, that being wrong is one of the most unsettling experiences that can happen to anyone. It’s an awful blow to the ego to feel you’ve made a mistake. That’s why people don’t want to change. It would mean admitting they were wrong. A patient once burst out at me indignantly, “But that would mean I wasted the first forty years of my life!” Some people would rather go on making the same mistake for another forty years than admit it and cut their losses. People are very stubborn. Sometimes they secretly believe that if they keep on long enough with their misconceived behavior, they’ll make it right. That reality will give in to their views, rather than vice versa. They’re still trying to get their parents to give in. They haven’t given up their anger over what they didn’t get when they were five years old.

You can stop your parents from getting away with your whole life; you can stop yourself from giving up your whole life.

First, you have to make a very basic decision: do you want to lift yourself up or put yourself down? Are you for yourself or against yourself? That may seem like a strange question, but many people are literally their own worst enemy.

As long as we feel small and helpless, we feel we’re in the presence of invisible, all-powerful adults. They may not be very nice adults; we’re always expecting them to blame us or yell at us. But as long as they’re there, we’re not alone. That’s the thing we fear most: if that disapproving parent goes away, we will be all by ourselves. But that feeling, too, is a leftover from being four years old. To be abandoned is a terrifying prospect to a child; he literally couldn’t survive it. But for an adult, aloneness is something quite different. He not only can survive, he often needs aloneness to grow, to get to know himself and develop his powers. Someone who cannot tolerate aloneness is someone who doesn’t know he’s grown up. It takes courage to let go of that fantasy of childhood safety. The world may never seem so certain again, but what fresh air we breathe when we take possession of our own separateness, our own integrity! That’s when our adult life really begins.

People who do not love themselves can adore others, because adoration is making someone else big and ourselves small. They can desire others, because desire comes out of a sense of inner incompleteness, which demands to be filled. But they cannot love others, because love is an affirmation of the living, growing being in all of us. If you don’t have it, you can’t give it.

If someone is on a diet for a week and goes off it for a day, the overeating is nothing compared with the orgy of self-recrimination he then indulges in. What about the week he was on the diet? He should give himself credit for that and go right back on it, if that is what he wants for himself. The pitfall is this: very likely it was not so much the food he couldn’t resist on the eighth day as the temptation to tear down the wonderful self-image he was building all week long. That’s something many of us find hard to take: really feeling good about ourselves. When we “hate ourselves the morning after,” we should ask where we get our biggest kick—from our activities the night before or from wallowing in self-reproach the following day.

We will take the case of those who are in better circumstances than the mass of the community. They are well educated and taught; they have few distresses in life, or are able to get over them by the variety of their occupations, by the spirits which attend good health, or at least by the lapse of time. They go on respectably and happily, with the same general tastes and habits which they would have had if the Gospel had not been given them. They have an eye to what the world thinks of them; are charitable when it is expected. They are polished in their manners, kind from natural disposition or a feeling of propriety. Thus their religion is based upon self and the world, a mere civilization; the same (I say), as it would have been in the main, (taking the state of society as they find it,) even supposing Christianity were not the religion of the land. But it is; and let us go on to ask, how do they in consequence feel towards it? They accept it, they add it to what they are, they ingraft it upon the selfish and worldly habits of an unrenewed heart. They have been taught to revere it, and to believe it to come from God; so they admire it, and accept it as a rule of life, so far forth as it agrees with the carnal principles which govern them. So far as it does not agree, they are blind to its excellence and its claims. They overlook or explain away its precepts. They in no sense obey because it commands. They do right when they would have done right had it not commanded; however, they speak well of it, and think they understand it. Sometimes, if I may continue the description, they adopt it into a certain refined elegance of sentiments and manners, and then the irreligion is all that is graceful, fastidious, and luxurious. They love religious poetry and eloquent preaching. They desire to have their feelings roused and soothed, and to secure a variety and relief in that eternal subject which is unchangeable. They tire of its simplicity, and perhaps seek to keep up their interest in it by means of religious narratives, fictitious or embellished, or of news from foreign countries, or of the history of the prospects or successes of the Gospel; thus perverting what is in itself good and innocent. This is their state of mind at best; for more commonly they think it enough merely to show some slight regard for the subject of religion; to attend its services on the Lord’s day, and then only once, and coldly to express an approbation of it. But of course every description of such persons can be but general; for the shades of character are so varied and blended in individuals, as to make it impossible to give an accurate picture, and often very estimable persons and truly good Christians are partly infected with this bad and earthly spirit.

The key to growth is to learn to make promises and to keep them. Self-denial is an essential element in overcoming all three temptations. “One secret act of self-denial, one sacrifice of inclination to duty, is worth all the mere good thoughts, warm feelings, passionate prayers, in which idle men indulge themselves,” said John Henry Newman. “The worst education which teaches self-denial is better than the best which teaches everything else and not that,” said Sterling. Making and keeping these three universal resolutions will accelerate our self-development and, potentially, increase our influence with others.

It was sunny and cold outside, the kind of morning that autumn did best.

Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains.

We could do it easily if the three of us took turns watching him,” he said. “I don’t think we should worry your mother,” he told Sara, “but why don’t you invite me to stay for supper so I can see what Dr. Reeves says when he comes back? And, after that, you can suggest that since it’s so late, I should stay overnight. Then we can make our own arrangements about who stays with him when.” “And if Dr. Reeves doesn’t come back?” asked Andrew. “We won’t be sure about that until about nine or ten o’clock, which will be late enough so that there’ll be all the more reason for me to stay.” “Will you stay for supper, Sean?” Sara asked with no change of expression. “We’re having one of Mrs. Simmons’ specialties, Wiltshire gammon with Cumberland sauce, which I happen to know you like.” “I love any kind of ham, Sara,” said Sean, his face as expressionless as hers, “but I love Wiltshire gammon best of all. Thank you very much.

You want to know something? You’re all right, Andrew. You and Sara and Sean. You’re all all right, have been all through these last few days, and I won’t forget it.” “Oh, sure.” He put on his best Cockney accent. “We’ave been blooming wonders, we have. Three right ream and rorty coves.” “Well, you have been—in spite of that shoful accent that you shouldn’t even try.

There's something rum about this," she said. "Beasley was your friend long before he was ours. You introduced us to him and we know you like him, but somehow you don't seem terribly upset at what's happened to him. Is it because you know something that we don't?" "What can I know when I just got back to London?" "I don't know," said Andrew, "but Sara's right. You either know something or you've guessed something. I'll bet you know what's happened to him, maybe even where he is." "That's very flattering. Do you think I'm a magician, a psychic, or the Sleuth of all Sleuths?" "If you mean by that, the best detective in England, the answer is, yes. Sometimes." "I repeat, that's very flattering, and it's nice to be appreciated by two such illustrious colleagues, but— " He broke off at a knock.

What are you planning to tell your mother about all this when you get home, Andrew?” “I don’t see any need to tell her anything.” “You don’t? What do you say when she asks where you’ve been all day?” “Why,” said Sara cheerfully, “we were on a boat trip on the canal. It was very interesting and instructive. We learned something about dustmen and dust yards and about Indian religions. But, best of all, we met a police officer from India who turned out to be a good friend of Beasley’s as well as the inspector’s and whom he’ll almost certainly invite to dinner.” “Isn’t there a folk saying about teaching one’s grandmother to suck eggs?” said Captain Ross with a smile. “There is,” said Wyatt. “And the interesting part of it is that every word of what she said is true.

There are smart people and wise people. Smart people can tutor you in English or help you with math. Wise people teach you about life. It’s best if you have both smart and wise people in your circle. That’s not the case for me. That’s why I flunked algebra, but I know it’s possible and sane to love a broken mother.

It’s crazy to think that ten years ago I was on a desperate search for happiness. The hunt took me to another state, around the city, and through four years of college. I searched for bliss in textbooks, lectures, and lovers. I tracked joy in experiences, best friends, failed relationships, and lost jobs, only to learn the lesson that Granny Crackers tried to teach me so long ago: “Happiness lives inside of you.

[to Samuel Urlsperger, 13 Oct 1732:] I am now directed to inform You that there has been a Conference here between the Gentlemen [Trustees] empowered by His Majesty to make a new Settlement in Georgia in South Carolina, and the Gentlemen of this Society [S.P.C.K.] concerning the most effectual Method of relieving the Distresses of the Persecuted Protestants of Saltzburg, that the Gentlemen of both Societies are of Opinion that this would best be done by Settling them in Georgia because they will there be put immediately into Possession of Land which will belong to themselves and their Posterity for ever, and will there enjoy all the Rights and Priviledges, Religious and Civil of English-born Subjects, and likewise that the Gentlemen have come to a Resolution to apply some of the Contributions which they shall receive to this Purpose if it shall be agreeable to the Poor People.

But say that everything you’ve said is true, what possible connection can those murders that were committed ten years ago have with the ones that have just been committed now?” “I don’t know. I just know that I’m very worried. Can’t you see how I would be?” he said to Verna. “It’s a very frightening situation at best. And when I think that you—you of all people—might be in danger . . .” “I understand, Peter,” said Verna with unaccustomed meekness. “And I promise to be good. To keep off the stage until you discover who’s responsible for these horrible deaths and tell me it’s safe to go back on the boards again.

Falling is the best kind of thriller (for me as a reader, anyway). Characters you care deeply about. Nonstop, totally authentic suspense.

Embarrassed that he had not recognized one of America’s best-known entertainers, whom he’d seen many times on television, Gunny escorted him to the stage, where Davis took his seat with the other celebrities who had made the trip, including Josephine Baker, Charlton Heston, Paul Newman, Marlon Brando, Rita Moreno, Harry Belafonte, James Baldwin, Ruby Dee, Tony Curtis, Sidney Poitier, and Steve McQueen.